


Jagged Little Pill

by NowSeeHere



Series: Simply Can't Help Themselves [6]
Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: 90s, F/F, Fluff, Lesbian, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28474479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NowSeeHere/pseuds/NowSeeHere
Summary: It's new years eve, 1995.Delia thinks the party she's stuck at is a real drag until she meets a certain redhead in a rather unconventional way.
Relationships: Delia Busby & Patsy Mount, Delia Busby/Patsy Mount
Series: Simply Can't Help Themselves [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072544
Comments: 12
Kudos: 44





	Jagged Little Pill

**Author's Note:**

> The Patsy POV is getting a little too much attention, so here’s me trying to switch it up with Delia’s perspective. 
> 
> Below are all the titles to the songs on Alanis Morsette’s ‘Jagged Little Pill’ and I tried to encompass them in some way in the fic - see if you can spot them! 
> 
> All I really Want, You Oughta Know, Perfect, Hand in My Pocket, Right Through You, Forgiven, You Learn, Head Over Feet, Mary Jane, Ironic, Not the Doctor, Wake Up

Delia sat in the middle of the sofa and played with the hem of her dress. She had never felt more uncomfortable and awkward, sinking in the middle with the persons on either side slowly encroaching in on her. 

To her left was a rather amorous couple who were on the verge of shagging right there on the sofa next to her without a care that they were in a living room full of others, and to her right was her friend Claire. Delia had arrived at this party with the fellow classmate, and with the woman having just turned 18, she had done herself in with the booze and was passed out drunk, snoring up a storm. 

‘Claire,’ Delia huffed and shoved her friend, ‘Wake up.’ 

When Claire merely snorted in response, slumping over the arm of the sofa, Delia sighed, annoyed that the one person she came here with that she knew had basically abandoned her.

‘Perfect.’ she grumbled. 

It hadn’t taken much convincing on Claires end to get Delia to come along with her to this party, the woman having lived in London all her life and an out lesbian, she knew people who knew people, and had wanted to get to know the scene. Delia was desperate to tag along and get a taste of this life, to meet other queer women like herself, now that she was out from under the thumb of her family in some middle of nowhere Welsh village. 

This party seemed to be a bust, however. Everyone seemed paired off or to have already found their clique, huddled with their close knit group of friends and their drinks. No one seemed interested in talking to her and Delia was much too sober to just walk up to a group and start chatting. She sighed, feeling a little hopeless. 

‘Well, Busby, you live, you learn.’ she mumbled to herself, thinking she would never come to one of these parties again. 

She really just wanted to leave. Maybe grab a chippy and mix with the crowds in the streets drunkenly celebrating the new year, but she couldn’t just abandon her friend. Instead, she got up from her seat and walked through the crowd, finding the small bathroom. If she were going to spend new years eve alone and looking pathetic she could at the very least do it in the privacy of some strangers bathroom. 

Delia flicked on the light and shut the door behind her, having a look around. Black and white tile, sink, mirror, toilet. Nothing out of the ordinary, but she did admire the bear claw tub against the wall. Not knowing what to do with herself, she opened the mirror cabinet and snooped. Toothbrushes and toothpaste, some hair gel and floss. Nothing exciting here either. 

She closed the cabinet and looked at her reflection, nearly screaming when she noticed movement behind her shoulder. 

Delia whirled around to see long fingers grasp under the window frame and push the heavy old window open. 

Panic coursed through her, and unable to find her voice, Delia stumbled backwards to the door, unable to take her eyes off the arm that now appeared through the dark open window. Delia stumbled and fell on her bum in her haste, and with her back against the door, she patted her hands frantically around her and grabbed the closest thing she could feasibly use to protect herself with. Faster than any legendary western quickdraw, she pointed a newly acquired blow dryer in the direction of the intruder like a handgun, the thing rattling in her hands from nerves. 

After a tense moment, Delia gulped and lowered the hairdryer enough to look with one eye open to see the face of a woman smiling back at her, grinning like a cheshire cat with a cigarette between her teeth, an amused laugh filling the small bathroom. 

‘Sorry, didn’t realize anyone was in here.’ 

Delia watched as the woman huffed and grunted as she awkwardly stuck one long leg through the window. Pale skin poked through the frayed hole of the knee of her jeans, and she heaved the rest of her body through the window as soon as a heavy boot was securely on the ground. She stood up straight and brushed her ginger fringe out from her eyes, letting down her hair before tying it back up in a neat ponytail. 

‘Least I didn’t catch you with your knickers ‘round your ankles.’ she laughed and flicked the cigarette out out the window. 

A fierce blush spread across Delia’s cheeks as she moved one hand to bring the hem of her skirt down her legs as far as it would go. 

‘You can lower your weapon now, darling, I promise I’m harmless.’ 

‘W-what on earth are you even doing out there? You must be freezing!’ 

‘Well, in case you’re a smoker you oughta know,’ the woman replied blithely as she straightened her green and red flannel top, ‘Martha’s got a stick up her arse about smoking in her flat. Except good ‘ol mary jane.’ she finished with a roll of her eyes. 

‘Ironic,’ Delia quipped, setting the hair dryer aside. 

‘Isn’t it?’

The woman shut the window and gave herself one last glance over in the mirror, unbuttoning her cuffs and rolling the sleeves midway as she looked back at Delia, ‘I was just trying to be polite and having a smoke out on the fire exit so the smell didn’t linger. Seems like I’ve got to take a fag outside whenever I want one anymore these days. Next thing you know they’ll ban them altogether.’ 

The woman extended her hand and Delia grasped at it, rising from the floor and noting that the woman was nearly a whole head taller than her. She brushed her skirt flat around her legs and wondered why she had decided to wear these combat boots and not something more feminine!?

‘You ready to go back out there?’

Delia smirked nervously, hesitating, and she sensed the window woman taking a step towards her. 

‘Are you alright?’

‘No,’ Delia replied, and added quickly, ‘I mean... I’m fine, it’s just, I’ve come in here to hide, really.’

‘Is the party that overwhelming?’ the redhead asked contemplatively, ‘was thinking it was rather dull.’ 

‘No, it’s just… the friend I’ve come with has become… incapacitated… and I don’t know anyone else…’ Delia again looked down and nervously played with the hem of her top, ‘Sorry, I’m just being terribly awkward and antisocial. All I really want is to leave, but I can’t leave my friend…’ 

Delia halted her nervous blathering when an outstretched hand entered her line of vision. She looked up and saw the woman looking back at her with kind eyes. 

‘I’m Patsy Mount.’

Delia found the gesture abrupt, but what nearly overwhelmed that finally someone was showing her a shred of kindness that evening. Her lips slowly turned to a shy smile as she grasped Patsy’s hand. 

‘Delia Busby.’

Patsy smiled, ‘Well, now you know at least one person.’ 

Delia held Patsy’s eyes for a brief moment, and she was nearly enchanted by those blue eyes, that pretty smile. It made Delia’s confidence soar to think that a woman as beautiful and tall as Patsy was giving her even the slightest bit of attention and kindness, however brief it may be. 

It was all ruined the second Delia felt the bathroom door wack her in the back of the head, propelling her forward into Patsy’s body. While she was unable to appreciate it in the moment, she was later grateful for the soft landing of her face into the taller woman's chest.

There was a snort. ‘Really, Patsy? In the bathroom?’

Delia could feel Patsy tense against her, ‘Oh _shut up_ , Val! You very well know-’

‘Save it Mount! I can see right through you!’ this Val person slurred, swaying on her feet so much she needed to grasp onto the door handle to steady herself. ‘You and your little romances with the ladies. Next thing you know she’ll be head over feet for ya an-’ 

‘I will not! And it’s _head over heels,_ you bloody pillock!’ Patsy replied, gentle taking Delia by the arms and holding her steady as Delia rubbed the back of her head, ‘I’m so sorry that happened, Delia, are you alright?’

Delia tried to play it off but, any confidence she had gained during their introduction was shot, replaced with mortifying embarrassment, ‘I… I’m fine, just took a knock to the back of the head, I’ll be alright.’ 

‘Oh, well in that case you landed in the right arms, lil’ lady.’ Val leaned against the doorframe and pointed a casual thumb in Patsy’s direction, ‘This here’s a doctor. _The_ doctor.’ 

‘For the last time, Val, I’m not the doctor, I just like a multi-patterned scarf!’ Patsy seethed, her cheeks turning red from anger, ‘You’re pissed off your arse.’ 

‘Be that as it may,’ Val waved her hand and reached out, grasping at air, ‘could the five of yas get out the way so I can have a proper ralph in the loo?’

Val hiccuped and an ominous gurgling in her belly could be heard. Delia and Patsy stepped aside and let her pass, exiting the bathroom and shutting the door just as Val fell to her knees in front of the toilet. 

‘Tell that twat not to use my good towels!’ shouted the hostess over the crowd of curious onlookers who were shaking their heads or giggling at the scene that had just played out. 

Delia held her head in her hands, suddenly thankful that she knew no one but the passed out woman on the sofa, and of course now Patsy, who awkwardly coughed into her closed fist and shifted from one foot to the other. 

‘Well. Fancy a drink?’ the redhead asked quickly. 

‘I fancy a dozen of them at the moment.’ 

‘Right, shall we?’ Patsy politely gestured towards the kitchen and Delia led the way. 

She pushed through the swinging kitchen door and saw that they were thankfully alone once again, only this time surrounded by half empty pizza boxes, bowls of half eaten chips and dip, and a countertop littered with empty beer bottled, opened liquor bottles and mixers. The place almost looked ransacked with the cupboards and silverware drawers left open, to which Patsy tisked. 

‘Right mess in here,’ the woman mumbled as she began to tidy, closing drawers and moving empty beer bottles into a bin that appeared from under the sink, ‘you have a drink preference? I’ll see what I can make from the scraps here.’ 

Delia reached for two clean glasses and set them down, ‘I’ll have whatever you’re having if that’s alright.’ 

She really just didn’t want to admit that she didn’t have a drink preference because she didn’t have much experience actually drinking. Patsy seemed to know what she was doing, popping corks and mixing this and that into a metal strainer and giving it a firm shake over her shoulder. Despite knowing the woman for all of five minutes, Patsy seemed to excuse an air of confidence, but wasn’t arrogant. She seemed to know what she was doing, so at ease with herself, so _cool_. Delia wondered why she was even giving her as much attention as she was. 

‘This’ll be a gimlet. Favorite of my fathers that I might have snuck a taste or two in my youth, and it grew on me.’ Patsy winked, pouring the cocktail into the glass and handing it to Delia. 

Delia brought the glass to her lips to have a taste, when Patsy snapped her fingers. 

‘Ah, almost forgot,’ she said, and squeezed a lime wedge into Delia’s drink. She looked on in anticipation, biting her lip as Delia finally took a taste and lightly smacked her lips. 

Delia smiled, ‘Well done.’ 

Looking pleased, Patsy moved to pour a serving for herself. 

Delia was starting to enjoy herself again and wondered just how long she would be given the privilege of having Patsy to herself. She found the courage to at least engage in conversation with the woman. She sipped her drink again and allowed for the liquid courage to do it’s work. 

‘So, Patsy, good Christmas?’ 

Patsy smirked and took a sip of her drink. ‘The only exciting thing that happened over my Christmas was the Blockbuster finally having a VHS of Empire Records to rent. Must have watched it a dozen times just to look at Liv Tyler alone.’ 

Delia raised her eyebrows with a smirk, ‘Liv Tyler’s your type then?’ 

Patsy shrugged, ‘Maybe. Can’t deny she’s nice to look at. Those lips, the midriff... ‘ 

Delia hummed contemplatively, wondering if she could get away with exposing her midriff so Patsy would look at her like the way she looks thinking about Liv Tyler. 

‘How about yourself? Was Father Christmas good to you this year?’ 

‘He brought a new cassette tape player and headphones for me, though I was a little jealous that he brought my brother a game boy, the git.’ 

‘Any cassette tapes to go along with that player?’ Patsy asked, 

‘Been listening to No Doubt’s Tragic Kingdom, have you heard it?’

Patsy beamed, ‘Bought the record the moment it was available in London. I’m loving that ska and punk are having some sort of reemergence into pop culture, definitely prefer that to the grunge that’s been dominating the charts recently. I… sorry,’ Patsy stood up straight and laughed bashfully, ‘could go on for ages talking about music. Please tell me when to stop.’ 

‘You’re alright,’ Delia smiled, finding flustered Patsy rather adorable, ‘I noticed out there that Martha’s got several stacks of records and cassette tapes.’ 

‘Have you had a chance to take a look at them?’ Patsy asked, ‘She’s got quite the collection.’ 

It seemed rather easy to talk with Patsy then, the two of them making their way through the other partygoers. They did briefly discuss Martha’s collection, Delias eyes following Patsy’s long fingers as she brushed over the massive stack of tapes and CD’s. Soon though, the conversation moved to other things. Delia was astounded that Patsy seemed to latch onto the tiniest little detail she offered and start an entirely new thread of conversation. 

Here, Delia thought she was an unremarkable, uninteresting country girl. Patsy made her feel anything but. 

It felt like only minutes that they had been standing there talking, but suddenly it seemed others were crowding up around the television, the camera pointed at Big Ben to capture the impending fireworks show, and a flute of champagne thrust in their face. 

‘Just a few minutes now!’ someone shouted, ‘Turn down the music!’ 

Patsy took her glass and nodded her head in Delia’s direction, ‘Do you want to try and wake your friend?’

Delia looked over her shoulder to see that Claire was still passed out on the sofa and snoring, only now she had been decorated by the others with tinsel and a string of coloured lights. She honestly didn’t want to bother her friend and was about to say so, but then the countdown on the tele began, and everyone around them began to chant down from ten. 

When everyone counted down to one, there was a spectacular display of fireworks broadcasted on the tele, everyone in the room raised their arms in the air and shouted jovially and drank. Delia watched as Patsy seemed to simply swirl her drink in her glass and then give her a smile, a kind look. 

‘Well, happy new year, Delia.’ 

Patsy raised her glass, and Delia clinked hers with Patsy’s before they finally took a sip of champagne, the bubbles tickling Delia all the way down her throat. 

Delia couldn’t help but notice that everyone around them seemed to have paired off, all sharing a new years kiss. At the very least an arm was thrown around the other as they drunkenly threw paper confetti and sang auld lang syng at the top of their lungs. It made her sad to think that she and Patsy were not sharing a kiss right then, not even an embrace?

Then again they had just met. Though, as Delia sipped her champagne, she still debated whether or not she should just reach out and-

Delia watched as two slender arms appeared and grasped onto Patsy, catching the taller woman off guard. 

‘Pats!’ Val mumbled, leaning heavily on her friend, ‘Pats, listen, chickadee, babe.’ 

‘Perfect,’ Patsy sighed, annoyed, ‘What, Val?’

‘Look I’m sorry I’m so sloshed, alright?’ 

‘Val.’ Patsy warned through gritted teeth. 

‘It’s a holiday an all that right? You forgive me?’

Patsy sighed, ‘Yes, forgiven.’

‘Swell, babe. Listen, can you take me home before I make more of a mess of meself in the loo? Maybe we could stop at a stand for a cheeky kebab or chippy if you’ve got a few quid’

Patsy sighed and looked apologetically to Delia. ‘I’m sorry, looks like I’ve got my own drunken mate to tend to this evening.’ 

Delia smiled and nodded empathetically, ‘It’s alright, you go. Make sure she gets home safe.’ 

Patsy gave a relieved smile, and even though Delia knew she was doing the right thing, she was sad to see her go. 

It wasn't until Patsy and Val had gathered their coats and exited the flat did Delia feel so terribly alone again, like part of her was missing. 

As the others partied around her, shouting and whirling their noisemakers and snogging as the fireworks went on, Delia wondered if she even wanted to continue to try to make friends with this crowd, one that had been quite inhospitable since she arrived. Save for Patsy, of course. She had been in London nearly six months, and while most of her focus had been on her studies, was she really about to let the one woman who she had made a genuine connection with just walk away like that?! 

No! She was going to start off the new year right for a change. 1996 was going to be her year! 

In a haste, Delia dashed to the bedroom to find her handbag resting somewhere on the bed, quickly retrieving a pen and paper and jotting down her number. She ran out the door and made her way down the stairwell with the old wooden railing and mauve carpeting. She managed to spot Patsy and Val just as they had made it to the ground floor, Patsy helping a drunken Val put on her coat. 

Delia stopped halfway down the stairs, and Patsy looked up, smiling at the sight of her. 

‘Fancy seeing you here.’ she quipped as the drunken Val focused very hard on zipping her parka. 

‘Yeah, I…’ Delia trailed off, her nerves making her feel so jittery all of a sudden, like she was about to jump out from her skin. 

‘What’s the matter?’

Delia couldn’t move, and watched as Patsy approached, slowly climbing one step at a time to meet her. 

‘Y-You forgot something.’ she managed. 

Patsy stopped a step below from where Delia was standing, and for the first time that night the two were finally eye to eye. 

‘Oh?’ Patsy raised a curious eyebrow, ‘What’s that?’

A fierce blush feathered across Delia’s cheeks, and she wondered if it was the combination of the gimlet and champagne or something else that was giving her the courage to do what she was about to do, but she pressed on. 

‘My number… and...’ Delia swallowed a lump in her throat, gathering all the courage she could, and placed one hand on Patsy’s face and leaned in and kissed her. 

It was rather abrupt, she could admit to herself. A bit awkward at first, as it was unexpected by the two of them, but it seemed that when the both of them overcame the initial shock they seemed to relax into the kiss. They both pulled away slightly only to rejoin, more tender, soft, as if they were experiencing the kiss instead of just having a snog. Delia closed her eyes fully and enjoyed the feeling of Patsy’s soft, sweet lips against hers, the smell of her, the warmth of her body. Delia even dared so much as to let her other hand wander to Patsy’s hip, tugging on her belt loop to pull her in closer, then resting her hand on her bum where she slipped the little piece of paper with her number into her back pocket. 

Delia nearly needed to climb the stairs backwards to pull away, seeing as Patsy was adamant to keep her lips locked on her no matter how far she pulled back. She admitted to herself that she would have happily kept on kissing in the stairwell if they both didn’t have drunken friends to tend to on this new years day. 

With one last kiss goodbye, Delia felt rather proud herself, leaving Patsy punchdrunk and standing there on the stairs, one hand in her pocket and the other holding a champagne flute.

**Author's Note:**

> This one shot was based on a fanart that the very talented tlpursuit created - it's not done yet nor do I have the consent to share it with the masses, but believe me it is just wonderful. 
> 
> Happy new year everyone <3


End file.
